


The Hunt for the Four Tails

by Flossie



Category: Naruto
Genre: Comedy, Daddy Kink, F/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 08:16:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17679767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flossie/pseuds/Flossie
Summary: Itachi doesn't know how to cook eggs. Kisame is fucking tired of twinks. Moora's never met a creature quite this exotic.[note: no nsfw in chapter 1]





	The Hunt for the Four Tails

 

Kisame and Itachi had been traveling together for a long time. Maybe too long. Kisame felt like he was starting to see Itachi everywhere. Every traveler they passed, every shopkeeper and inkeeper for a second had those dead eyes and laugh lines, before Kisame blinked a little to wake himself up.

“Can’t we sleep any longer?” Kisame whined, dragging his giant burly form out of bed. 

Itachi didn’t respond. He was already dressed in his robe, trying to cook an egg with his fireball jutsu. 

“Fine, fine.” Kisame was used to providing all the conversation himself, as Itachi… seemed to only know how to say “yes”, “no”, “where’s the bathroom”, and “you lack hatred”. As someone who used to, uhm, work in intelligence, Kisame admired Itachi’s ability to be so tight-lipped; however, it got pretty boring on long missions with no one to talk to. 

Kisame picked up an egg from the counter and popped it into his mouth, shell and all. 

_ Crunch. _

Itachi didn’t even cringe. That was disappointing. Kisame tried again to get a reaction, chiding, “You know, if you cook your eggs on an open flame like that, they’ll burn…”

Itachi stopped flame-broiling his egg and cracked it into his mouth. It was cooked. He chewed, swallowed, and demanded, “Let’s go.”

“Hey man, I’m still in my pajamas!” Kisame protested, gesturing to his matching fleece long-sleeved-shirt-and-booty-shorts ensemble. 

Itachi harrumphed and reached for another egg to cook. Instead, he picked up the round bar of soap. Kisame let him do it. 

Once Kisame was dressed in his robe and Itachi had cleaned all the soap out of his mouth, the two set out for Iwa. An hour or so into their journey, Kisame’s stomach started to rumble. “Man, I’m hungry,” he complained. “I forgot to eat breakfast at the inn!”

Itachi reached into his pocket and pulled out a flame-cooked egg. Kisame picked it up gingerly between his huge blue fingers and shook it cautiously. “Do these even taste any good?”

Itachi shrugged. 

“I didn’t think so. Here, you can have it.” Kisame handed the egg back to Itachi. “Why don’t we stop somewhere for lunch instead?” 

Itachi wordlessly put the egg back in his pocket. 

Kisame groaned and looked up to the sky. Would Itachi  _ please _ just say something interesting for  _ once _ in his life? The two trudged along in silence, hot Earth County sun beating down the wide necks of their Akatsuki cloaks. When Kisame finally looked back down again, he was confronted with his worst nightmare:  _ another Itachi _ .  

“GAH! Who are you?” Kisame started, and tried to hide behind the real Itachi. 

At the same time, Itachi jumped in his sandals, shouted “Hey! That’s the Four-Tails!” and tried to hide behind Kisame. 

The slight figure watching them from a produce stand began to approach the criminals, dark hair swishing behind him as he walked. He began to reach out his hands--he was holding something--and then suddenly his world went dark. 

 

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Moora Murakami was a farmer’s daughter. She ran a small produce stand a couple miles outside of the Hidden Stone Village, on the main road, so travelers to and from the village might stop by for a snack. Like her business, she is small and unassuming. She’s five-feet-nothing, with pale skin and dark hair down to her waist. Her brown eyes are kind, and her smile is cautious. She wears plain farmer’s clothes in tan and beige, loose and long to combat the Earth County sun. At 23 years old, Moora has not traveled far, with her farming and her selling taking up the majority of her time. She has met many travelers in passing, but none from quite so far away as Hoshigaki Kisame.

 

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Moora came to with a pounding headache and a vague sense that three days had passed, but she could tell from the harvest moon hanging low in the afternoon sky that it couldn’t be more than an hour after she had met those strange men and passed out. She became aware of the rocky earth underneath her, of the crags around her. She deduced that she was camped out on the shady side of a rock pillar, Earth County’s famous geological phenomenon. Then, she started to hear voices. The voices of two men… she forced herself to turn her head… yep, it was the same two men in the strange, weather-inappropriate black cloaks. They were arguing. 

“I’m telling you, this is Roshi,” the dark-haired one insisted. 

The larger one sounded annoyed. “Do you even know what Roshi looks like?”

“Yeah, I studied the files very carefully. He is definitely Roshi.”

“Does Roshi look like you?”

“No, why?”   
“Cause this guy looks like you.”

The dark-haired one shifted uncomfortably. “No he doesn’t. He has red hair, like Roshi. I have black hair”

The large one sighed. “What color is my skin?”

It was blue. That much Moora could definitely tell. She’d never seen a blue man before. 

The dark-haired man looked at his partner and said, in a total deadpan, “Red!”

Moora choked with laughter at what must have been a joke.

The blue man cursed. “He’s already awake! He’s not Roshi though.”

The black haired man turned towards Moora. She could make out pale skin and a weathered face. He was peeling an egg without looking. “Is too Roshi,” he protested, “How else would he be awake so quickly after enduring my  _ tsukuyomi _ ?”

Moora had never heard of a  _ tsukuyomi _ , but it sounded bad. Like, really bad. She tried to speak but nothing came out. 

The blue man walked over to Moora, staring down at her. His stature truly was frightening, a giant wall of blue chiseled muscle, sharp angles and deadly-looking teeth. He crouched down close enough that she could smell the ocean on his breath. He looked at her, really looked at her, through dark yellow eyes that didn’t seem human. His voice was quietly assertive. “Roshi’s a 45-year-old man with a beard, Itachi-san. This boy’s barely older than you, and look, he hasn’t even gotten his beard yet.” The man stroked Moora’s face with a giant thumb, sending a shiver down her spine. His touch was so much gentler than she’d imagined, but his skin was cold. She tried to speak again, managing only a dry croak. 

The huge blue man turned to his partner. “Itachi-san, let him speak. Maybe he knows where Roshi is.”

Itachi walked over and waved a hand at Moora. All of a sudden she felt like a wad of cotton had been removed from her mouth. “Who are you people?” she asked. She meant for it to sound like a demand but it came out weak and gravelly, a product of having been gagged for who knows how long.

The blue man smiled, showing rows upon rows of those jagged, evil-looking teeth. “My name is Hoshigaki Kisame, and this here is my associate Uchiha Itachi. We’re looking for a man called Roshi who supposedly lives around here, because we have an important message for him. Do you possibly know where we could find him?”

Moora was confused. She coughed the gravel out of her throat and replied stupidly, “I’m not Roshi.”  

 

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Hoshigaki Kisame liked boys. He liked girls too. He was pretty over twinks--after a tryst with Sasori he was convinced they had nothing left to offer him--and was currently preoccupied with fantasies of being bent over on a fishing boat by a gruff hunk… well, needless to say, when he abducted the small young man from the produce stand, he hadn’t even considered the possibility of looking at him to see if he was hot. 

But then the boy spoke. And it was as if Kisame had just grown an entirely new pair of eyes.  The boy’s voice wasn’t a boy’s voice, but the silky-smooth cadence of a young woman! Kisame nearly jumped out of his skin. 

Itachi put a hand on Kisame’s shoulder. The touch burned. Damn Uchiha and their fire-hot blood. “You okay?” He asked.

Kisame shrugged Itachi’s had off. He didn’t have time for twinks. 

 

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As she blurted out “I’m not Roshi,” Moora saw Kisame’s eyebrows jump up and his jaw fall slack. His cloudy yellow eyes didn’t widen, but they didn’t seem to have the mechanics of a human’s eyes anyway. Then even the partner, Itachi, was worried for him? Thoughts were racing in Moora’s head, she wondered if she could use this confusion to her advantage, to escape, when she discovered that she was bound hand and foot. Kisame looked angry now, and Moora leaned away as he glared down at her again. 

He demanded, “Well? Who are you?”

And behind him, Itachi deadpanned, “I will know if you lie.”

Lying? Lying was the last thing on Moora’s mind right now. If she could just clear up this understanding and get back to her produce stand before nightfall… She complied: “I’m Murakami Moora, a farmer from this country. I’ve never heard of Roshi.”

Itachi nodded to Kisame.

“Moora…” Kisame repeated her name, seeming to savor the word on his monstrous lips. His gums and tongue were pink, like hers. Maybe he was human after all? He lowered his eyebrows and crinkled his nose at her, which had the effect of looking like he was squinting without moving his eyes. On second thought, there was no way those dead eyes belonged to a human. 

“Moora. Moora-san, that’s… that’s a beautiful name,” Kisame nearly whispered. 

Moora struggled against the ropes holding her. She stammered, “What the fuck do you mean?”

“Oh, sorry,” Kisame smiled, and reached towards her. Moora clenched her eyes closed--lord knows what he was planning to do with those monstrous claws. But all she felt was the ropes around her wrists and ankles being loosened. Kisame bowed his head at her. “Forgive us for the mix-up. And let me take you home.” There was an inexplicable kindness in his voice that made Moora feel way calmer than she knew she should. She tried to stand up, but found that her limbs were shaky and she fell. Kisame caught her, in his cold smooth arms. Her skin prickled into goosebumps and her heart beat fast. 

“It’s okay… Moora-san. I will take you home.” Kisame repeated and lifted her up, bridal-style. He smiled a goofy smile. “You’re so light! I thought for sure you were a boy… we both did.”

Moora frowned and replied timidly, “N-no, I’m a grown woman.” 

“Then what’s with these?” Kisame teased, pinching at her shapeless burlap clothes. 

Blushing bright red, Moora batted his hand away. “I-it’s just what we wear in Iwa, okay?! Now put me down!”

Kisame shook his head solemnly. “We both know that’s not a good idea, Moora-san.” 

Moora pouted. “Fine. Just Moora is fine. And my home is just due west of the produce stand where you…” she looked from Kisame to Itachi and back to Kisame, “well, you know.”

“Ooh, just Moora?” Kisame flashed another toothy grin. “Don’t you think it’s a little soon for that, little girl?”

Moora and Itachi just stared at each other and the silence was too much for Kisame to bear. “Don’t worry about him!” Kisame burst out and glared at Itachi. “Go find an inn and burn some more eggs or whatever you do. I’ll find you once I get the girl home safe. And,” his voice grew dark and threatening, “this is the last time I let your legally-blind ass track down a jinchuriki.”

Itachi harrumphed and all of a sudden turned into a bunch of ravens that scattered. Aaaand, that was just too many weird things for Moora to take. She passed out in Kisame’s arms. 

  
  



End file.
